Going Out In Glory

October 17, 1993

As the geese fly south and the chill wind approaches from the north, realists may develop a case of autumn angst. After all, this is the season symbolic of impending death. Flowers shrivel, leaves rust and animals hole up. Soon the trellis where morning glories bloom will stand bare, adrift in a frozen garden.

But optimists view fall as the most beautiful, bountiful and exhilarating time of year. They're nostalgic for the smell of wood smoke, welcoming indoor fires for romantic reasons as much as for practical ones. They greet the bracing air as refreshing, where others might fear it as an omen of flu season.

Individual outlook aside, most New Englanders appreciate the tart taste of fresh-picked apples, the sound of acorns falling on the road and the sight of the morning mist rising off the surface of a pond. Even a jaundiced eye cannot overlook the brilliant beauty that is everywhere.

The season's distinctive golden light casts the most ordinary snippets of landscape into scenes worthy of capturing on canvas: A white clapboard farmhouse awash in a pool of bright orange maple leaves; piles of pumpkins and chrysanthemums arranged artfully at a roadside stand; birds flocking in a sunlit field of freshly cut corn; children in fall colors waiting for the school bus, their animated chatter forming clouds of mist in the morning cold.

Few places are transformed in fall, as New England is, into a paradise of exploding color and light. Whether it is perceived as the last gasp of a dying season or an advance reward for enduring the barren days ahead, autumn's stunning show never fails to surprise and delight